Domestic Policy
by ArcaJeth
Summary: Aoi takes a holiday leaving Mashiro to the tender care of Arika. Will they survive the week?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Mai-Otome and all non-original characters are owned by Sunrise.  
This is a work of parody and I gain no profit from it. 

Special thanks to Tsume and Nocturne from the Shoujo-Ai Forum for the beta-reading. :HUGS:

**Mai-Otome:  
Domestic Policy Part 1**

The kingdom of Windbloom was experiencing growing pains. With the promise of newly available technologies, the capital, Wind City, was inundated with opportunists, entrepreneurs, refugees and politicians; all hoping for a piece of the action.

Construction companies and contractors were doing the best as the battle-  
scarred buildings were repaired and new buildings; research labs and hospitals appeared almost over night.

Scientists the world over came to help Garderobe's Youko-sensei refine nano-machines fit for civilian use. These new machines would help seriously ill patients recover while the machines dissolve into harmless proteins after the work.

The resulting revenue from research would allow Garderobe to offer scholarships to less advantaged yet gifted students. Plus, Windbloom could fill its strained treasury.

**"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"**

Of course, none of this currently meant a thing to the Kingdom's ruler.

Queen Mashiro Blan de Windbloom's day had gone from routine to chaos, when her head maid, personal assistant, and close friend Aoi Senoh announced her intention to take a personal holiday.

"I told Your Highness about this weeks ago," Aoi replied. The two walked along the grande promenade, where new frescoes depicting the rebuilding of the kingdom with all people working together adorned the walls.

"I KNOW that!" Her Royal Highness shrieked. "I approved it. You deserve a holiday. But I never approved calling HER back."

"My queen, she's the only person with clearance high enough to attend to your personal needs this week." Aoi said, trying not to raise her queen's ire. "It was either her or Sakomizu."

"Well..." Mashiro hesitated.

"Your highness!" the maid exclaimed as the fiery monarch appeared to seriously consider her rotund, afroed advisor.

"All right, she'll have to do," Mashiro conceded grudgingly. "His hands are way too big so he couldn't wash my back as gently as you do."

"That isn't quite the point," Aoi said, deflating with relief.  
It seemed Mashiro might be finally getting over her "_The Incident_" from weeks before.

Had she a window into her queen's imagination, she'd see the lavender-  
haired monarch activating the "Ultimate Obnoxious Onyx" GEM and charging up for her "Ultra Brat Attack."

The two paused at the entryway as the garrison arrived. Queen Mashiro had sent her otome to inspect the border garrisons in the extreme south of the kingdom. A sound tactical choice since the remnants of Schwartz were still being mopped up.

"It really wasn't Arika's fault," Aoi said as she saw the look on her queen's face. "She didn't know it was going to be in a tabloid."

"Thanks for reminding me," Mashiro gritted her teeth. The incident in question happend when Arika was interviewed by the _Windbloom Eye_. It was an honest mistake when Arika mentioned the queen's body pillow. Long story, short, the Meister Otome's quote (far out of context) read "I guess Mashiro-chan can't get to sleep without soumething big and thick between her legs."

Though innocent sounding, the_ Eye _reporter sent the story to their partner paper the _Windbloom Tattler. _The rest was history.

The procession of burly honor guard halted, leaving an empty space. Mashiro Blan de Windbloom readied herself to let their leader have it with both barrels. Oh, she was going to pay...

When the past walked in.

The tiny figure, dressed in sand-scoured fatigues and a worn but lovingly maintained tan poncho entered and stood before the gathered troops.  
Her brown, twin-ponytaied hair was tucked into the tan collar and her face, so young told the tale of countless hours under the relentless desert sun.

But the eyes, those azure eyes shone with the same radiance and honest determination she'd had on their first meeting. The eyes spoke of a girl who would throw herself before any danger without a second thought for those she loved.

Her friend, confidant and Meister Otome Yumemiya Arika had arrived.

The scorn she'd been saving up died upon Mashiro's lips. Arika was here. The one person she couldn't hide her true self from. The only person who accepted her unconditionally.

"Mashiro-chan," that sweet voice, untouched by the hard road, began. "The southern border is secure. The Schwartz-allied forces won't be coming back any time soon. We 'persuaded' them that any further incursions would be unprofitable...Mashiro-chan?"

"WHAT'S with your appearance!" the queen exploded, surprising all assembled and herself. "How dare you report to me looking so disreputable?"

"I'm sorry Mashiro-chan," the otome replied evenly. "I came directly to the castle to see you--erm, to report."

"My queen," Aoi interjected, "shall we complete the preparations?"

"Very well," the queen exhaled heavily before she took off leaving courtiers and others scrambling to catch up.

_Why did I just say that?_

Mashiro had wanted to grab her friend's hand and take her somewhere to talk. To apologize for being selfish. To ask her not to go away ever again. But somewhere between her brain and her mouth it turned into scorn.

As they walked along the grand corridor towards the queen's rooms, the honor guard lagging behind, Mashiro noticed Arika walked with a slight limp. She slowed her pace noticing the right leg of the otome's fatigues was a bit thicker around the thigh.

"A little souvenir from Schwartz," Arika smiled seeing her friend's gaze. "Don't worry, Mashiro-chan. The nano-machines are taking care of it."

"As if I'd worry about you," Mashiro huffed. "You wouldn't die even if they killed you." Arika gave her a chagrined laugh.

"And do something about the way you address me," she pressed on. "I can't have you calling me -chan in front of everyone." Why did I just SAY that?

That comment hit home as Arika stopped short in the middle of the corridor. Mashiro almost jumped to an apology when she noticed the brown-haired otome wasn't paying attention to her.

"You actually did it," she said only loud enough for Mashiro to hear. New murals adorned the walls depicting the people of Windbloom rebuilding the country.

"Well I had to remodel after the second time you wrecked my castle," the queen said nonchalant.

These walls formerly held murals of the former royal family, and their loyal Meister Otome, Rena Sayers.

Royal historians were scandalized when the queen ordered them taken down and loaned to various museums around the kingdom. Editorials sprang up deriding the young queen for throwing away the past to cement her own rule.

Only two people in the corridor knew the real reason. The other's face was tracked with fresh tears.

"Thank you, Mashiro-chan." Arika whispered.

* * *

As Aoi walked toward the waiting sedan someone carried HER bags for a change. Though she couldn't see beyond the smoked-glass windows she could feel a familiar presence. 

"Are we doing the right thing?" she asked her waiting companion as she entered the car.

"I can't go on like it has," Chie replied, handing her lover a blue rose. "Those two don't do well without each other."

"I know," Aoi grinned as she accepted the gift. "I just can't help worrying about leaving them alone. Who knows what might happen."

"You should worry about yourself sometimes," Chie gently chided. "Like how you're going to get into this." She handed over a small gift bag.

The maid looked inside and immediately turned beet red.

"Um...Where's the rest of it?"

"Exactly," Chie grinned mischievously.

* * *

Arika tore through the darkened castle halls. An intruder had breached security and threatened the queen. Arika swore to get to the scoundrel first and tear him a new trachea.

The corridors of the rebuilt castle began to take odd twists and turns. The otome cursed herself for not memorizing the new format. Somehow the lighting in this section had failed.

Rounding a dark corner, something heavy rammed into Arika's stomach, sending her to her knees. Groggy from the impact, Arika found someone upon her, pinning her arms above her head.

The Meister Otome willed her Robe to Materialise...but nothing happened.

"W-who are you?" She demanded. The assailant remained silent but reached out and began to run a finger along her lips. The assailant leans forward, Arika closed her eyes concentrating. What does he want? She can feel hot breath on her lips. The otome guessed his (his?) intentions.

"No! You can't! I'm saving them for..." Arika faltered. Whom was she saving her lips for. Was there no one special to her? No one she wanted to give her first kiss to?

"I'm saving them for," she continued as she looked into the insane, sea-green eyes of her attacker. She could feel the hot breath upon her lips.

"MASHIRO-CHAN!"

Suddenly freed, Arika bolted upright...and nearly fell from her bed.  
Her quarters within the castle were dark on this moonless night. For several moments, all Arika could hear was the pounding of her runaway heart.

"What WAS that?" She demanded of the darkness. The bed sheets were twisted about her body as if she'd been acting out that odd dream. Dream? But her lips still burned from the dreamt kiss.

Arika tentatively touched her flushed cheek.

"Mashiro-chan touched me here," she whispered.

A furtive sound caught the otome's attention. The sound of slipper-clad feet rushing down the outside hall, away from her room.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. More to come in a bit. **

**:HUGS:**

**Arca Jeth**


	2. Chapter 2

Mai-Otome is the property of Sunrise. This is a work of parody and I gain no profit from it. 

Special thanks to Cuddlyness for acting as impromptu beta reader, and for being snuggly-soft :HUGS:

**Mai-Otome:**

**Domestic Policy ****Part 2**

Yumemiya Arika yawned.

Probably a foolish, rude and impolitic thing to do during a full session of the Garderobe Council, but yawn she did.

And Mashiro, high queen, ruler and monarch of Windbloom, (and also the otome's master) wouldn't let her forget it.

"Did you have a pleasant nap?" Mashiro asked sweetly as they both left Garderobe for the trip back to the castle. Luckily, Arika remembered to hold the door for her queen.

"Heh...that was my mistake," Arika said sheepishly. "I didn't know those council meetings could drag on for so long."

"At least act like a Meister Otome in public," Mashiro growled, quickly dropping her "regal monarch" mask. Take Haruka Armitage for example. She just stood back and looked impressive the whole meeting."

"Isn't that because Kruger-Gakuenchou threatened to have her gagged if she made another outburst?" Arika pointed out. "Still, I wouldn't mind being an otome like her."

"You're missing one or two things before you can do that," Mashiro replied slyly.

"I-I'm still growing!" Arika cried, self-consciously looking down at her rather small bosom.

"But don't worry too much about yawning," Mashiro changed the subject."At least you cut off that pompous new emperor of Cardair."

Arika noticed her master's scowl and wondered just what the emperor had done to earn such disfavor. Then she recalled (between naps) that the emperor attached a rider to the Technology Proliferation Act, which ear-marked longevity treatments for royalty.

The queen was nearly fuming when she found out and had challenged her fellow monarch on the council floor. However, when Cardair made a snide remark about "youthful sentimentality for the departed, overriding common sense," Mashiro had to be restrained.

But instead of screaming, Mashiro coldly stared the man down.  
"The lost technology of Garderobe belongs to the people. As long as I rule I will keep my promise to them," she said. "Anyone who forgets that is not a friend or ally of Windbloom."

On that note, the rider was abolished by a unanimous vote of the council.

Arika guiltily recalled looking on Mashiro with unabashed awe. She might have continued staring had a hand not touched her shoulder.  
Arika looked up into the garnet eyes of the Beguiling Amethyst, Shizuru Viola.

"Is something interesting?" the Third Column asked. "I rarely see you so absorbed in one thing."

"Ah! No...that is," the younger otome stammered. "It's just Mashiro-chan surprised me. She was just so amazing."

"Absorbed was perhaps the wrong word," Shizuru mused with a warm smile. "It's more like you were enthralled."

"I was not! I was just..." Arika's protest was cut short as she noticed the queen looking at her. Or rather, as the queen noticed that Arika had been staring at her for the past few moments.

Emerald and opal eyes met, then turned away as the president of Aires said something to the queen. _What was that just now?_

"She's born with it isn't she?" Arika asked Shizuru. "Even if she's not of noble blood, the nobility's still there."

"Everyone is born with a Heaven-sent talent," the older otome said as she placed her arms about Arika. "Just as you were born to be an otome, she was born to be a queen. But just the same it's a choice as to what one will do with that talent.

"Of course truly talented people have the most difficult time admitting they need someone else in their lives," she said into Arika's ear.

Arika turned beet-red as she felt Shizuru's lips on her cheek.

"Good luck," the Third Column said while leaving Arika to blush and ponder those words.

"Take the next right," Mashiro instructed the driver.

"Where are we going? Arika queried. Consumed by her recollection, she didn't recognize this part of town.

The queen smiled back at her with a twinkle in her emerald eyes. "To Mimi's House."

* * *

Close to Wind City's center, next to the refurbished river, stood a complex of dormitories, schools and parks. Contracted by Queen Mashiro Blan de Windbloom, the modestly named "Mimi's House" was many things at once. It consisted of free schools for children as well as an extension of Windbloom Royal University for adults.

The rapidly modernizing country needed skilled workers to build and repair the machinery of progress. At Mimi's House, the city's poorest citizens could learn new trades while living in comfortable, low-cost housing.

Beside the river rested a large park with vast playing fields, plentiful trees and gentle hills. Beneath a tremendous cypress sat the queen Mashiro as she read a story to the gathered youth.

The youngster, children of the families who trained there, were dozing in the balmy afternoon. Even though they loved the old story of the Princess who dared to take up a weapon to fight for the one she loved.

As she read the familiar words, Mashiro's mind wandered; down through days weeks and months she descended. To a time where her life was life was less than secure, her very survival in question.

* * *

THE BLACK VALLEY 

Such an odd name for such a tranquil place. The sheer rock walls of the valley shrouded the gentle grasses and aromatic woods of this place of legend. It was nothing at all like the horror stories a young Princess Mashiro Blan de Windbloom used to thrill to at night.

Indeed she too was a stark contrast to what a monarch should be. Her clothes were clean but pitifully ragged. Aches and pains from manual labors she'd never attempted in her previous life reminded her body that she needed rest. But she couldn't rest quite yet.

Fetching water was her chore tonight, she recalled as the empty bucket bumped her leg. The young queen of Windbloom continued down the flag stoned path to the well. She'd need to clean and dress Arika's wounds well. Mashiro was a bit skeptical when her otome started training with the feral cat god Mikoto. More often than not, Arika would come back from sessions looking like she'd lost a war rather than a sparring match.

However, seeing the bubbly girl trying so hard to better herself gave Mashiro a bit of confidence. Arika wouldn't give up when so much was dependent on her, so Mashiro would always be there to put her back together.

Having drawn her water, the queen made her way back towards the rustic house where her charge awaited. However, she paused at an odd noise. After a short search Mashiro found her hostess, Mai Tokiha and her companion (master?) the cat god Mikoto sitting on a precipice.

"Mikoto wait!" the prodigal otome laughed as she attempted to wipe the other girl's face with a cloth. "Let me clean that wound first."

"It's just a scratch," Mikoto dismissed as she went in to steal another kiss.

For the moment, Mai was fending off her efforts, if only half-heartedly. "Arika must be getting stronger if she could actually land a hit," she surmised.

"Mmm," Mikoto nodded, deciding to let Mai tend to her for the moment. "She's still got a way to go but I think she can do it. Of course if she's going to win she'll need the last piece."

The diminutive deity glanced straight at the tree Mashiro had ducked behind. "But that's your job to take care of," she said as she gave her otome a peck on the cheek and bounded off into the night.

"You can come out now," the strawberry-blonde otome called.

Chagrined and blushing, Mashiro emerged from her hiding place and joined Mai on the precipice.

The two sat in silence and gazed at the broken landscape of the valley, illuminated by the silvery full moon. Despite the tranquil surroundings Mashiro's mind swirled with questions (and not just about what she'd walked in on).

"So...are you two...?" Mashiro ventured.

"I could ask the same about you and Arika-chan," Mai teased.

"We are SO not like that!" Mashiro bristled.

"I'm sorry," Mai laughed gently. "You're still both too young to think about that. But being royalty is a lot like being in a relationship."

The queen shot Mai a bemused look.

"If you don't think of your partner's happiness things could go bad," Mai continued. "The same as when you don't think of your subjects' happiness."

"I get that," Mashiro said quietly, a shadow passing before her emerald eyes. "Being a queen means you're responsible for people's lives. Even though they serve you, they also depend on you to do what's right."

"It seems Arika's not the only one who's improving her lessons," Mai smiled at her. "Mashiro, how do you feel about Arika?"

This caught the young monarch completely off-guard. She nervously fidgeted as a slight breeze played with her silver hair.

"I...don't know," she answered honestly. "But I'm glad she's with me."

"That's a good answer," Mai replied. "I sometimes feel the same way about Mikoto. Even if she drives me crazy sometimes, it feels like something wants us to be together. I guess you could call that fate."

A shiver ran down Mashiro's spine upon hearing the word "fate." How many times, since e their first meeting had she and Arika been thrown together? How many times had they saved each other from despair? What was the strange hold that the clumsy, rude girl had on her. Could she fight it? SHOULD she fight it?

"Mashiro," Mai interrupted her rumination. "You'll have to support her."

"I know," Mashiro said, wondering what the older woman was getting at.

"You know, Mikoto's a bit psychic," Mai said, her voice very solemn. "she can't do it every day, only when the emotion's very strong."

Mashiro was startled when Mai suddenly took her hand.

"You're going to have to ask Arika to do something terrible for a good cause. You have to be strong because she won't be."

"I don't understand," Mashiro broke in. "What's going to happen to her?"

Mai only shook her head. "Mikoto wouldn't tell me. She said it was just too sad."

"I don't know if I can do that. I don't know if I can hurt Arika."

Mai pulled the young queen into a hug. "It's just one of the hard choices you have to make when you're the queen," she said softly. "Even more if that choice affects the one you care about."

* * *

PRESENT DAY 

A loud snore jarred Mashiro from her reverie. Several of the children not already asleep were dozing. Along with young Meister Otome sleeping with her head perched on her master's lap. Since she'd rarely had the opportunity, Mashiro took her time studying Arika's sleeping face.

The normally energetic girl's face was serene in slumber. A slight sheen of sweat covered he brow, and her braids had almost unraveled;  
proof of her rough and tumble play with the children.

The queen reached down to smooth away a few errant hairs.

"Mashiro-chan."

The queen started at hearing her name issue from those lips. Just as it had the previous night, when Mashiro was in her quarters. She didn't know why her steps had led her to the otome's room, but being there, looking over her sleeping face as she did now, just felt so right.

Mashiro moved closer...closer to that sweet, sleeping face.

* * *

_Yumemiya Arika was dreaming again. The same dark, twisting corridors, echoing footfalls and fear. Or was that excitement? Her body moved of its own accord. She caught the fleeing figure and they both tumbled to the floor. She found herself gazing up into those mirthful, hungry, emerald eyes. And then..._

She was temporarily blinded by sunlight. Yet as she recovered her senses, Arika found those eyes staring down at her again. Only now they were so much closer and so very real as Mashiro hovered above her. Their lips were only a breath apart.

"Arika," she whispered, her breath tickling the otome's skin.

The meister otome, Arika could only gaze back dumbly.

"Arika, Mashiro repeated softly. "You are so...heavy!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Yes, I did end it like that. Don't worry, the third and final chapter is coming up. **

**waves Arika x Mashiro flag**


	3. Chapter 3

Mai-Otome is the property of Sunrise. This is a work of parody and I gain no profit from it. 

Once again, thanks Cuddlyness for doing the beta. Thanks for putting up with my flights of fancy.

**Mai-Otome:  
Domestic Policy Part 3**

"Welcome back, Master!"

When an otome greets her master, she must always have the most glorious smile on her face.

"Is there anything I can get for you master?"

The effective otome must be indispensable to her master but never obtrusive.

"Good morning Master. How shall I serve you today?"

An otome must always speak with a moderate tone. Her voice must never override her master's except in times of emergency.

"If there is nothing else Master, I shall retire for the evening. Have a pleasant sleep, Master."

The young lady smiled pleasantly and bowed politely. Her gaze was steady, her smile the perfect mix of confidence and servitude. That perfect smile, however was false. the happiness never reached those aqua eyes.

"What am I doing?" Yumemiya Arika asked the girl in the mirror. She only smiled back stupidly until the otome made the smile disappear.

Forming a contract with the Azure Sky Emerald halfway through her Coral year had left some gaping holes in Arika's formal education. While she excelled in the physical and martial aspects of her post, her social graces were severely lacking.

Daily practice assignments from Miss Yukariko (mainly to protect Garderobe's reputation) helped but Arika still had long hours of study ahead of her. It didn't help that she was so lonely.

After the day at Mimi's House, she and Mashiro hadn't spoken much. in fact they were avoiding each other, about as much as otome and master could. At meetings of the Garderobe Council and public appearances, her attendance was required. However, their eyes never met, and Mashiro never took Arika's arm as she used to.

The otome felt silly, missing something like Mashiro's touch, until she realized just how many times a day it happened. From the queen fussing over the tidiness of Arika's uniform, to Arika massaging her queen's shoulders during tense negotiations; it seemed the two were always touching for one reason or another.

Now, Arika felt simply abandoned. And she had a feeling that she knew why. When she awoke in Mashiro's arms that look in her eyes, that intense longing, was the same as the phantom from her dreams.

But what was this feeling deep inside her? It chilled her very heart because deep within, Arika understood this longing for she, too had felt it.

"But I can't let that happen again," she said aloud. "I can't hurt Mashiro-chan."

* * *

Days had passed. Days since she'd felt human contact. As a queen, Mashiro Blan de Windbloom was used to a certain amount of distance from her subjects. Her position and her duty required it.

However, she'd always had her maid Aoi who treated her more like a dear friend than an employer. And then there was Arika. Arika's touch was so different than any in Mashiro's experience. Everyone she knew, even Aoi, was very gentle with her. As if she were some porcelain doll that would shatter if jarred even slightly.

Yet Arika was always he same with her. From the first time she'd grabbed her hand in that back alley, her grip was firm and sure. Not at all timid or careful like the many courtiers and functionaries.

Even as time moved on and Arika's hands grew strong and callused from hard training, they never lost that sureness, that honesty. Until now.

On the trip back from Garderobe Arika had helped her out of the sedan yet instead of taking her arm all the way back to the castle, the two parted as soon as possible. However, in that brief moment of contact, the hands holding Mashiro's trembled.

"When did it come to this?" Mashiro said mournfully.

Pardon your Highness?" Came an anxious voice behind her.

Mashiro looked up at the servant who was styling her hair. The girl's touch was so light, so insubstantial, that Mashiro had forgotten she was there.

"Not like Arika," Mashiro mused. That day, when she was heartbroken over a love that never even started, as if by magic Arika appeared before her. She too was suffering that day. And instead of offering trite words of false comfort she'd just held her.

It wasn't the flimsy, anxious grip of a courtier, too afraid to bruise the queen's porcelain skin. It was just a girl at the edge of her endurance hanging on for dear life.

The feather-light touch of the hair-dresser jarred the queen's thoughts.

"Get out," she growled.

"B-but your highness," the servant stammered. "Your hair isn't-"

"I SAID GET OUT!" Mashiro roared. "I'll finish it myself!"

The hapless maid fled before her queen, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
Tears also ran down the monarch's cheeks, marring the freshly applied makeup.

"Am I really this terrible?"

* * *

The queen's sitting room was modest. That is, it was modest by Fuuka Castle standards. It was small enough to swallow a commoner's house twice. The room was appointed by heavily cushioned couches and chairs. Heavy silks and tapestries adorned the walls, all colored bright pastels as was the queen's preference. A two story window and terrace which opened to a panoramic view of Wind City dominated one wall. Upon the walls were carefully arranged shelves holding treasures most precious to the queen:

Gifts given her by her youngest subjects included, stick figure portraits of the monarch, a preserved bouquet of scraggly wildflowers, a favorite marble, a shiny stone the same color as her eyes. It was among these treasures that the queen sat and contemplated after a hard day. And it was the perfect place for an "informal" gathering of select members from the Garderobe Council.

The view notwithstanding, this room was not meant to awe visitors with grandeur but to remind them just where Her Highness's loyalties were. As the delegates milled about, many clucking over the queen's eclectic taste in decor, said monarch sat upon an over-stuffed sofa with a light drink.

Mashiro usually eschewed alcohol, but as with many things, even a queen couldn't refuse to participate in toasts from her fellow leaders. She sat and tried not to glower, dressed in one of her less uncomfortable frocks for this "informal" meeting. A sleeveless single piece summer gown of aqua with a matching thin over wrap. (bare shoulders are a royal no-no) Her silver hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail with a ribbon.

Her only adornment was a gold necklace bearing the insignia of the Windbloom Royal Family.

"I must commend the magnificence of Your Highness's Otome," a representative from a country Mashiro couldn't remember commented.

"We try our best," the queen said graciously. All the while her eyes followed the girl in sky blue.

Yumemiya Arika was busy serving drinks to the assembled guests. The queen had dismissed the domestic help for the night to keep the meeting intimate. More likely, this arrangement was for her guests' sake, since this was a meeting of moderates from the council. The council would soon recess for the year and many of those gathered had yet to state positions on key articles of the Technology Proliferation Act.

As carefully crafted as this meeting was, Mashiro couldn't help but stray back to Arika. Tonight, she was astounding in the halter-type gown, the same blue as her working uniform, with a daringly low neckline, and a flared, floor-length skirt. She noticed how the chiffon garment hugged Arika's scant curves.

And Mashiro noticed several of her guests noticing as well. But did any of them truly know her? Did they know her beyond the news programs and editorials? Did they know that Arika liked to sleep in on weekends and adored pastries? Did they know that she studied ferociously to make up for the gaps in her education? Did they know that the Meister Otome wept at night for a mother she never got the chance to know?

Mashiro violently shook off these thoughts. She had a duty tonight, no matter how much she wanted to drag her otome out of here. No matter how she just wanted to find a quite place where they could just hold each other and cry for a while. And maybe kiss a bit.

* * *

The meeting had extended to hours as the various delegates offered more toasts and became more merry. Yumemiya Arika went from wondering when the diplomacy would kick in to being shocked to find it had already begun.

Among the diplomats sharing drinks and anecdotes, several had paired off in secluded corners of the room, or even out on the parquet. The queen was a whirlwind, bouncing from one group to another, sharing a story, providing a fact, or just a sympathetic ear.

She could see why her master hated this sort of thing. Even if she was so adept at it. She was required to bend others to her will through cajolery, make every sentence drip with compliment, laugh at inane jokes and agree with ideas she found absurd while guiding her targets to her way of thinking. All while making them think it was their idea in the first place.

Many of the smaller groups had finished "business" and were making merry in earnest. In order to save her master some difficulty, Arika had surreptitiously replaced her wine with juice. This earned her a grateful smile from Mashiro who was at her limit.

The queen was currently speaking with a representative from Carletya, but her young body was flagging. Attuned to her master's plight, Arika took Mashiro by the hand, made her apologies and ushered her from the room. The ever-reliable Sakomizu took over hosting duties.

* * *

Clad in her nightgown and robe, Mashiro sat at her vanity, while Arika brushed her hair. Neither had exchanged more than pleasantries as the otome prepared her master for bed.

"Master," Arika finally said. "You were amazing tonight. I think you really made some headway with the moderates."

"Thanks," Mashiro quietly replied. "We'll see about my efforts when the Winter session starts."

"You seem a bit unsettled master," Arika observed. "Would you like a warm drink before be? Or perhaps some soft music?"

"Don't."

"Don't what, Master?"

"Don't call me that," the queen replied.

"But isn't this the proper way to address you?"

"Of COURSE it is!"

Arika staggered back from the force of the sudden outburst.

"I-I'm sorry," Mashiro said contritely. "That's just not like you."

"But..."

"I don't want you to be my otome anymore," Mashiro said as she stood to face Arika. "Don't get the wrong idea because it's not like that.

"I'm grateful for everything you've done for me. But if everything we've done together, everything we've been together is all because you're my otome and I'm your master then it's the worst kind of cruelty there is."

"Mashiro...chan..." Realization struck Arika as a thunderbolt as she saw the shamed look on the queen's face. These feelings she'd kept bottled up for the past year, the fear that her voice or action might betray her, the certainty that to act on said feelings would destroy their friendship;  
Mashiro had been dealing with the same.

It was then that Mashiro came close and embraced her.

"Thank you," Mashiro said into the taller girl's shoulder. "Thank you for touching me. Thank you for always touching me."

The otome could only nod dumbly as she felt hot tears stream down her face. As she held Mashiro's quaking form, she recalled another time when they'd both been dealt an emotional hammer blow. All they could do was cling to one another and cry.

"Mashiro-chan," she ventured, "I'm afraid of what's next. What's going to happen to us?"

Mashiro looked up at her then, her emerald eyes brimming with tears.  
"I think something like this..." She stood on her toes and haltingly kissed Arika's cheek, tasting the salty tears.

The otome didn't respond, but she also didn't back away. Mashiro slowly kissed her other cheek, letting her lips linger, and then peel away. She gazed up at Arika expectantly.

"She's giving me a chance," Arika mused. "It's a chance to walk away from this and pretend it never happened."

Yet as she looked into Mashiro's eyes, she couldn't turn away. Not from her. Arika leaned forward and softly kissed both of Mashiro's wet cheeks. A flush touched those cheeks as the queen looked into the taller girl's cerulean eyes. Could she? Would she?

Trepidation dissolved, as Arika tilted Mashiro's face upward and their lips finally met.

"Well, the world didn't fall apart," Mashiro smiled up at her when they parted.

"But I don't want to go back there yet," Arika replied and took her breath away with another kiss. However, instead of returning the gesture, Mashiro surprised pushing her onto her huge canopy bed.

The queen was upon her like a feline, kissing her face, reveling in the sensation of their bodies' closeness. This was not the dainty and proper monarch, but the young woman who hungered and desired. This same young woman whose tongue now tasted of her.

"I want to, now," Mashiro said suddenly.

"Are you sure?" Arika stared up into those emerald eyes so full of passion and a hunger that the otome was beginning to understand.

She succumbed to that destiny.

Mashiro kissed her deeply.

"So...what's next?" Arika asked breathlessly.

"I thought you knew," replied Mashiro as she gazed down at her.

"What gave you that idea?'

"Well..." Mashiro hesitated. "You DID attend Garderobe. I just thought you would...you know."

"I never had a chance to do anything like that. Erm...not that I was looking for it." Arika added quickly. "This is about as far as we got in my dream too"

"You dreamt about us? Together?" Mashiro exclaimed. "What was it like?"

"I don't know. I always wake up at around this time," the otome replied helplessly.

With a heavy sigh, Mashiro lay down next to Arika and accepted her embrace.

"Are we really this pathetic?" Mashiro asked as Arika pulled her close.

"I think," Arika brushed silver strands away and kissed Mashiro's neck, "We've got plenty of time to figure it out."

Mashiro could only smile as she drifted away, listening to the steady rhythm of her love's wonderful heart.

-**FIN**-

* * *

**_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who wrote in reviews for this story. Arika and Mashiro are a couple I truly believe in so i wanted to do right by them. While this is the end of this tale it is by no means the end of this timeline. I hope to visit these two again some day and catch up on wht they've been up to. _**

**_Thanks for all your support._**

**_:HUGS:_**

**_Arca Jeth_**


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